


you fed my hunger for a life

by tnevmucric



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Endgame, The Velvet Room (Persona Series), akira hurts and needs to realise he cant fix everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tnevmucric/pseuds/tnevmucric
Summary: your dream drifts away and leaves an unsatisfactory, sour taste on your tongue





	you fed my hunger for a life

Your nose can smell his cologne, and you stop. Your hand is halfway to the door handle and your body pauses, your axis shifts. You want to turn around and run back to the car, beg the driver to retrace each inch you travelled so you can find it again. _How did you miss it?_ Your feet step backwards, the soles of your shoes dragging against the stone path. Moss softens the sound.

Your bag is so heavy on your shoulder. Morgana claws at your elbow.

But you are so alone.

"You talk so much more than I do", you remember saying. The snow had slowed the trains and for once, your schedules caught up to one another rather than brushing by. He'd laughed, waving a noticeably ungloved hand in your direction.

"And somehow, I'm here." His lips spread charm. "Would it bother you if I accompanied you to Leblanc? There's an awful chill in the air and your coffee is my favourite." You remember the stutter in your step and the yowl of a reminder from the cat at your side. You couldn't say no even if you wanted to.

Tonight, you tiredly ask your heart what you're going to do with it.

You can't smell the cologne anymore. Your feet can't find the right steps. You pull off your shirt and throw it to the desk- Morgana likes your bed, and your parents like Morgana. It's all worked out. You glance at your heart again (in the mirror, as you pass it, so you're not accountable for any actions made).

It looks drenched: half of it hangs out of your ribcage, barely connected to your veins.

Struck by a thought, you leave your room. You go to the cupboard in the hall and dig through your father's art supplies- you can hear him listening to your mother talk about lunch next week above the sound of the 6 o'clock news. You return to your room with a handful of art supplies and, like a blank episode of dissociation, you watch yourself. Your eyes paint the room and you watch your fingers twist in brown string and hot glue.

"You're staying close to me."

You make a disguise.

You are aware that this will fool no one.

Before, there had been a moment when you realised he was next to you. He had placed his hands over yours on the countertop and blindly, purposefully hooked his fingers to yours. You had looked up so fast, that he commented something with a disgruntled slant.

"You look like you've been shot."

 _Calm down_ , he'd reassessed, looking away. _I just want to hold your hand._

You'd loved the taste of his soul- sometimes you liked to think it followed you. Now, you're not so sure. Now you don't even know where you stand. You lay in bed and tug your heart closer: Morgana stirs but stays asleep.

He had such a hesitant smile when you were alone, a gentle function that you want to see again. _Since when did you two become so close?_ you can imagine your friends snapping, were they to listen.

 _Since he killed me,_ you would reply. _That's close enough, don't you think?_

Your body lurches your eyes open. Suddenly, as if pushed by gravity, your very being is forced into that room (that Lapis Lazuli blue makes you want to puke). You stare at your hands, _will_ for it to vanish. The carpet is soft on your knees and you hear a quiet blink; as if someone stands behind you, pulling a slow string, you raise your head.

You feel your heart stop dead.

"It's a mirage", Goro says, his head leant back on the brick wall of the cell. His lips are halfway caught in a sneer but it seems he has no energy left to try. Your throat feels dry. "Go to sleep, dream somewhere else." Your heart thunders alive.

"How did you get here?"

"It's not that hard to figure out how", he almost looks offended. His shoes are neatly placed by the bed and his socks are striped and odd. "You shouldn't be here, you need to leave."

As you stand, the room seems to circle around you. You have never met such an oppressive force. You notice the desk is empty and, still, no cards remain.

"Where are they?", you ask instead. If you were to even try, you are safely sure your eyes would only continue to stray on Goro. He has no blood on his clothes. No shackles on his wrists. He purses his lips.

"No one comes to visit, not even that... attendant. Their purpose is unneeded. My punishment is this resulting room."

"I'll get you out of here." You feel an immediate determination despite your crippling lethargy. Your glasses itch your face and for a moment you think it's your mask- you're weak. You're tired. You slam your hands on the bars.

Goro squints.

"You didn't before."

Your body flinches. His tone begs for a response and reads your crashing reaction; he had four options and hit all three. He blinks. He tests. "Why does that bother you? You look like you're about to cry."

"I tried", your voice cracks. "At the ship I wanted to figure out some way to lift that _fucking_ wall and they kept staring at me like I-", your heart seizes in your throat, "Here, too. I looked for you and I couldn't hear your voice and-"

You clasp your hands over your mouth: your rushing breath feels like glass on your tongue. He doesn't say anything. "You didn't say anything", you whisper hoarsely. Your fingers shake and he stares at you with an attempt at sympathy. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Would it have really made a difference, Akira?"

" _Yes_ ", you believe. "Yes. We would have sort something out for you. You have people who fucking care about you and who have cried for you no matter what you've done."

"Does the guilt of not being able to save everyone really eat away at you that much?"

He crosses one leg over the other and folds his arms. You feel trapped and hidden within your own chest- a red cage of malleable flesh and blistering skin. "Try to look at this from my perspective", he tells you, "Don't apply your own narrative. I deserve this, one way or the other. Take my actions and my motivations and put them on someone else- where would you place them?"

Jail.

Goro's lips twitch. "See?"

"You're different", you insist.

"I'm not special."

"You're my friend", you grip the bars again. "You're special."

The Velvet Room is warmer than you remember, like somewhere someone has lit a fire and let the embers burn all night long but you feel so cold and empty. There is nothing inside of you.

"You saved yourself", Goro says, and you can't look him in the eye. "That's all I could have asked for, in that moment."

You wake up with the sound of crashing waves in your ears. Mona purrs quietly at your feet.

Your heartbreak is nothing new to this world.


End file.
